In the Shadow of Ruin
by Hah and Mer
Summary: Earth is enslaved by the Goa'uld after their first attack, but years later a small band of mercenaries led by Weir discovers the secret of Atlantis, which could prove to be their salvation. AU. Shep centered. Lorne, Weir and McKay also featured
1. Prologue

**Title:** In the Shadow of Ruin  
**Author:** Mer, Hah and Em  
**Genre:** Drama, Action/Adventure, AU  
**Warnings:** Violence, a few naughty words and some adult situations  
**Season/Spoilers:** none  
**Summary:** Earth is enslaved by the Goa'uld when their first attack is not thwarted, but years later a small band of mercenaries led by Weir discovers the secret of Atlantis, which could prove to be their salvation. AU. Shep-centered. Weir, McKay, Lorne, Teyla and other familar faces are involved.  
**Disclaimer:** We don't own any of the characters. If we did, Shep and Lorne would be our cabana boys and we wouldn't get much writing done.

AN: This is an idea we've been kicking around for a while. What if our favorite SGA characters were a bit eeevil? What if Earth's fate had been a bit different? What if Shep wore leather pants? This fic is the result of those thoughts. Much like the show, it's a drama/adventure with some humor mixed in (Em insisted we have a "plot" too). Lorne is heavily involved in this fic, and we're giving him the fanon-approved first name Marcus. Enjoy :D

The prologue takes place around the time of the beginning of SG-1 season 1 (in an alternate timeline, of course)

**In the Shadow of Ruin**

By Mer, Hah and Em

- Prologue -

John awoke to the sound of shattering glass. In one fluid motion, he instinctively grabbed the gun off his nightstand, sat up, and aimed into the darkness. As his eyes scanned the room, an explosion rocked the building and the sounds of terrified screams filled his ears. He jumped out of bed, gun still aimed and blanket now haphazardly strewn across the floor, and felt a gust of cold air against his bare chest. Looking towards the source of the breeze, he saw shards of glass covering the floor and smelled smoke seeping in through a broken window. _Shit. I knew this neighborhood had gone to hell._

He quickly slipped on his pants and shoes and crept over to the window, glass crunching beneath his feet. Peering cautiously outside, he saw the scene of chaos and horror playing out several stories below; soldiers in strange armor that glinted in the light marched the streets, rounding up civilians into groups and shooting down those who screamed and ran in panic. Balls of flame bombarded buildings just blocks away, shaking his building and casting an eerie red glow in the smoke that billowed over the besieged city.

For a minute he wondered if he was having another one of his dreams, those that had haunted him since his time in the Air Force. But those always followed an all too familiar pattern, and these bizarre soldiers were definitely something new and it sent a chill down his spine. An even closer explosion rocked the building's foundation and the reality of the danger hit John with full force. He had to get out of there.

Without hesitation, John tucked the handgun into the waistband of his pants, pulled on a shirt, and ran for the door.

As John emerged from his apartment building, he realised the error of his impulsive decision. He'd run straight into what looked like a war zone, with nothing but a handgun and limited ammo with which to defend himself. He quickly surveyed the area; dozens of the foreign soldiers were guarding groups of frightened people, and few of the guards wore intricately designed metal helmets that completely covered their heads. They carried large staff-like weapons and shouted orders amongst themselves in a language he didn't understand.

One of the captives, who John recognised as a neighbor, must have noticed that he was armed because he began crying out to him for help. _Oh crap, there goes my cover_. As he'd feared, the shouting drew the attention of the enemy soldiers towards him and several began to converge on his position. _Run… or fight?_ He began to back away, but there was only a locked door behind him and his keys were three stories up. _Okay, there goes run_. John raised his gun and aimed at the nearest soldier.

"You know, some of us were _trying_ to sleep."

John didn't see any sign that they understood him, or that they cared what he had to say.

"You! Come with us," one armored man ordered as he aimed his staff weapon at John.

"I'd really rather not."

He fired at the soldier who was aiming at him, but the bullets just glanced off his armor. Before he could fire again, John saw a fiery blast from the staff weapon shooting towards him and rolled out of the way just in time, as the blast singed his shirt. He scrambled for cover behind a nearby car and tried to catch his breath and gather his thoughts. _Well, that didn't work._ W_hat's plan B?_ Peering over the hood of the car, he took careful aim at one of soldiers and fired at his head. The armored man dropped instantly, but the others barely blinked and continued towards him. John managed to take out a few more before running out of ammo, but there were still a dozen more men coming at him_. Ok… This is where it gets interesting_.

After considering his options, he decided he didn't have much to lose by making a break for it. Catching him off guard as he came around the side of the car, John managed to land a solid punch to the enemy's face and wrestled the weapon from his hands. But before he could figure out how to use it, John was struck from behind by the end of a staff and the blow knocked the wind out of him and forced him to his knees. He was quickly surrounded by more armored men, all pointing weapons at him. Helpless to do anything else, he raised his hands in resignation, hoping whoever this strange enemy was wouldn't shoot him now that he was no longer a threat.

At that moment, John's eyes were drawn skyward by a thundering noise and he watched in awe and horror as a ship, larger than any craft he had ever seen, descended on the city. His mind wandered back to the idea that this was all a terrible dream; such things didn't exist in this world. From the massive, darkened form of the hovering ship, smaller craft swarmed into the red sky. They didn't look like any fighter jet John had ever seen before. _Don't tell me… that's not a damn UFO up there…_ He tried to wrap his mind around the concept, when another more familiar noise caught his attention. He grinned at the…_aliens_ around him, who were also watching the spectacle in the skies.

"Yeah, you hear that?" John sneered at the alien soldiers. "These are _our_ guys."

John winced as one of them slammed the point of his staff weapon into a sensitive spot on his side.

"Silence!" the man commanded, and turned to his fellow soldiers. "Put this one with the rest. See that he doesn't make any more trouble."

As he was roughly shuffled along with more of the captives, John watched transfixed as dozens of military jets flew in formation to meet the enemy armada. But as the alien ships opened fire and fighter after fighter erupted into flame and smoke, the debris rained over the city, shattered, along with all hope of victory. He felt a pang of regret being on the ground, when he knew he should be up there where he belonged; to die flying was surely a better fate than whatever awaited him.

- - - - -

After the noise of the battle faded, it was replaced with crying and whimpering from the desolate crowd, still oblivious to what the alien soldiers intended to do with them. Of the several hundred captives, John Sheppard was the most outwardly calm, as his mind raced through plans of possible escape routes from this desperate situation. Unfortunately, they all led to certain death. _Screwed… we are so screwed._

John noticed the bombardments of the city had also ceased, and a relative calm fell over the night. It was then that he spotted the object moving towards them - another craft coming from the mothership, larger than the fighters from the recent battle. _Great…what now?_ The craft hovered briefly overhead, then set down a short distance away. The door opened towards the crowd with a hiss, and in the blinding light from within, John could make out the silhouette of a woman.

The female figure walked down the ship's ramp onto the street, with a fluid grace that didn't seem quite human. Light from the ship and the fire-lit sky glinted off her gold headdress and illuminated the sheer fabric of her dress, though her face was still obscured in darkness. John was momentarily distracted by her beauty and had to remind himself that whoever this woman was, she was the enemy. As she continued to approach, escorted by more of the helmet-wearing soldiers, the light of a nearby fire revealed her face and the red light flashed in her eyes. John shivered involuntarily as he got the disconcerting feeling that she was staring directly at him with those cold, inhuman eyes.

Her guards ordered captives aside as the woman strode through the crowd, surveying them for some unknown purpose. John's heart skipped a beat as she stopped directly in front of him and lingered. He tried to keep a brave face under her intense gaze as she walked around him, circling like a hunter inspecting her prey.

The woman turned to her guards and pointed a slender finger at John. "This one." She abruptly turned her back and started back toward the ship. "Kill the rest."

"Woah, what did you say?" The woman showed no reaction and kept walking. "Hey, I'm talking to you!--"

Before he could react, two soldiers grabbed John by both arms and began to drag him to the ship, following her.

"What the hell are you doing! What do you want with me? You don't have to kill anyone! Please--"

They had reached the ramp when the screams began. John managed to turn around as the ramp folded up behind them, in time to see a row of alien soldiers firing on the crowd as people ran in terror and fell to the alien weapons.

- - - - -

John was led through the dimly-lit corridors of the ship, following behind the mysterious woman and surrounded on all sides by armored guards. After a few more sharp jabs from the staff weapons, he'd decided that maybe it was best to surrender to his fate and go quietly. Observing his surroundings, he noticed the décor was in complete contrast to what he expected to see on any kind of spaceship. Large curtains of a silky white fabric hung from the ceiling along every wall and flickering torches were the only visible sources of light, casting a warm glow on the hallway. Through a door that slid open automatically, the hallway opened up into a large chamber, similarly adorned with draped fabric and torch lights. A tall golden throne was perched on a pedestal at the far end of the grand room, and in it sat a man with a commanding presence.

The woman walked up the steps and took her place beside the man in the throne, who looked down at John with disdain. Like his companion, he also wore a headdress, and was dressed in elaborately embellished golden robes that cascaded onto the floor. _He looks like he's in charge here… maybe now I'll get some answers._

"Kneel!" one of the solders commanded.

"I'd really prefer to stand, if that's ok with--" John felt a sharp, painful blow to the back of his legs and his knees buckled and hit the ground hard. Rough hands held him in place. "--or, I could just kneel."

The robed man rose to his feet, towering over John from his place on the pedestal and smirked arrogantly. His eyes suddenly flashed with a light from within, as if confirming his alien nature. He spoke forcefully, with a strangely deep and distorted voice that echoed in the vast space.

"_I am your god_."

John stifled a grin. "You're my _what_ now?"

The man's expression turned to fury and he waved a signal to his men. Out of the corner of his eye, John saw a guard approach him holding a smaller rod-like weapon with three pointed prongs on the end. _This can't be good_… When he felt it jab him just below his neck, his entire body exploded with searing pain and a tortured cry escaped his lips. After what seemed like hours of agony, he felt himself falling as his vision blurred and faded. The last thing John saw was the smug and satisfied face of the alien leader, before succumbing to the merciful darkness.

- - - - -

AN: The next chapter will return to present-day Stargate time and we'll meet up with some more familiar faces. Please let us know if you like where we're headed with this :)


	2. Chapter 1

**Title:** In the Shadow of Ruin  
**Author:** Mer, Hah and Em  
**Genre:** Drama, Action/Adventure, AU  
**Warnings:** Violence and a few naughty words  
**Season/Spoilers:** none  
**Summary:** Earth is enslaved by the Goa'uld when their first attack is not thwarted, but years later a small band of mercenaries led by Weir discovers the secret of Atlantis, which could prove to be their salvation. AU. Shep-centered. Weir, McKay, Lorne, Teyla and other familar faces are involved.

**Disclaimer:** We don't own any of the characters. If we did, Shep and Lorne would be our cabana boys and we wouldn't get much writing done.

**AN:** Thanks for all the lovely reviews! We're inspired by the reaction :D (and we haven't killed each other yet, which is a good sign).  
Stealth Dragon – We love the idea of Shep on a war-torn planet too. Although this fic isn't Earth-based, we've been inspired to dream up a new fic all about this.  
**Chapter note: **Some of our characters are acting a bit different, aren't they? Well, it _is_ an eeevil AU ;)

**In the Shadow of Ruin**  
By Mer, Hah and Em

- Chapter 1 -

_(8 years later – present day)_

"So, what exactly are you saying, Rodney?" Elizabeth Weir leveled the scientist with her gaze. She knew she needed his brilliance, but his technobabble was intolerably dull.

Rodney McKay rolled his eyes. Why everyone couldn't be at least _half_ as smart as him was beyond his comprehension. "I'm _saying_ that there's another gate here on Earth, in Antarctica."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. The way he seemed to think no one was even _half_ as smart as him did nothing for her patience. The arrogant fool would live to regret it one day. "Yes, but _where_ in Antarctica?"

"Nope," Rodney shook his head. "I'm not giving you the information until I get paid."

Annoyed at his complete lack of regard for her position, not to mention his overwhelming arrogance, Elizabeth couldn't take it any more. She slapped him across the face, and raised her eyebrow threateningly. "You _will_ tell me, and you will tell me now, or you may not _live_ to be paid."

He remained unfazed and put on his best smug expression, of which he had many. "If you kill me, then you'll never know what I know."

_Damn it!_ She thought. _I hate it when he has a point._ Doubly angry at his insolence, she cast a glance at her head bodyguard and current boytoy Marcus Lorne, and without a word he moved forward to grab the scientist by the arm. She handed Lorne a military-style knife and took a step back as her right-hand man pressed the blade against McKay's throat. A trickle of blood began to run down his neck and the arrogant light in his eyes was quickly replaced by a refreshing spark of fear.

"Well, then, I'll just have to find other ways to convince you," Elizabeth warned in a tone that was venomous yet ethereal.

As she'd hoped, Rodney almost wet himself. He'd heard rumors of how Elizabeth had allowed Lorne to convince others to do her bidding. Rumor had it her "negotiation" skills were how she'd come to be in charge of the group of mercenaries in the first place.

"Whoa whoa whoa, let's be rational here!" Rodney panicked, backpedaling from his prior overconfidence. "I'm sure we can come to an agreement."

"The location, Rodney. That's all I'm asking for."

When he hesitated again she took a deep breath, putting on her best "diplomat" look and leaning in close in her typical negotiating manner.

"Ever since Apophis came back and took over earth, we've been scraping together a meager existence, always in hiding and scavenging inferior Earth weapons just to survive. With unlimited access to our very own stargate, we have a chance to actually turn the tide of this battle."

She watched the beads of sweat form on his brow as she slowly ran a single finger down his arm. _Yes, he's going to break any minute now, _she thought with a grin. "So, what will it be? Do you want to be a hero, or do you want to meet an …unfortunate end?"

Fortunately for the scientist his desire to save the world, or rather, to save himself, won out. Elizabeth gave a heavy sigh as Rodney outlined the location of the second gate. On the one hand, she was glad to finally have the coordinates for what she believed to be the path to the overthrow of the cruel Goa'uld lord; on the other hand, she loved to watch her muscle man work. She'd known McKay wouldn't last long, but she _had_ hoped for a little bit of entertainment before he broke. Nevertheless, with the necessary information extracted, the planning could begin. Her first order of business was to find a pilot to get them past the constant Goa'uld patrols and into Antarctica in one piece, and she knew just the man for the job.

- - - - -

"Sheppard!"

John approached the hot tub slowly, keeping a wary yet submissive eye on its single occupant. Without so much as a glance in his direction, she waved him closer still.

"Yes, my lady," he responded obediently as he stood before her, bowing deeply to Amounet, the queen of Lord Apophis.

He didn't buy into this "I am your god" crap, but he'd learned long ago that a bit of kissing up went a long way with these … whatever they were. He'd definitely learned it the hard way.

"How may I be of service?" he offered.

"I require a massage," his mistress demanded, her eyes flashing. It annoyed him when she flashed her eyes, as if he only obeyed her because of that reminder of what she was, and not because of the whip that was never far from her hand. Of course, right now, he was also annoyed because, in spite of the fact that they had traveled to the tropics on holiday, he was still required to wear the same form-fitting leather pants he always wore. No amount of powder could remedy his discomfort. He knew because he had tried.

"Yes, my lady," he again replied obediently.

However, as he began to walk around the hot tub again to stand behind her, those cold eyes flashed again. "No, join me in here," she demanded.

"I beg your pardon, my lady," with his rising impatience and discomfort, it was getting more difficult to remain calm and act subservient. "But these clothes aren't exactly good for wearing in water."

"You need not worry about that." She eyed him coyly, clearly believing that by now he required no more specific orders.

John sighed inwardly as he understood her command and began to peel off his clothing.

- - - - -

_(John remembers)_

He tried to move, but his head pounded and his muscled protested, aching with the memory of pain. Whatever that thing was they'd jabbed him with, he hoped he'd never see one again. When he finally managed to push himself up into a sitting position, he noticed his jeans and t-shirt had been exchanged for a silky tunic and pants. The fabric felt soft against his sore body and he wondered why they would provide him with such a comfort after torturing him. Not that anything else about these aliens made any sense. The next thought that crossed his mind was how had he gotten into these clothes? Surely not those oversized goons in freakish suits. Please not those oversized goons in freakish suits.

That incredibly disturbing thought was replaced when he noticed that the cell appeared to completely open on one side. How the hell had he missed that? Pushing himself up, he moved forward slowly, making sure his legs would support his weight. _So far, so good_. He made his way to the opening in the cell and was relieved to find no guards in the immediate area. It seemed too easy. John took a step towards the hallway and was hit with what felt like a strong electrical charge that sent him flying backwards. _Damn it! What the hell was that? Maybe not so easy…_

He laid flat on his back, limbs still tingling from the shock, when he heard rhythmic clanging of metallic footsteps approaching. The apparent ringleader of the group punched some buttons, disabling the forcefield. The large man, who John finally noticed had a strange gold tattoo on his forehead, grabbed John's arm roughly and jerked him to his feet, marching him out of the cell.

"Where the hell are we going?" When he received no response, he tried again. "Hey, you…uh… what's your name?" Silence. "Ok…how 'bout I call you Murray. Murray, where the hell are we going?"

The man raised an eyebrow. "I am Teal'c, First Prime of Apophis. And our destination is none of your concern."

The sight of one of those sticks from earlier pointed in his direction silenced any further questions. Eventually, John and his entourage arrived in an elaborately decorated chamber. The room wasn't large, but it was elegant; it appeared to be living quarters of some sort. Then he saw her. The woman from the throne room.

This time she wore no robes, but rather a sleek dress of white silk that rippled when she walked and clung to her well-proportioned figure seductively. Deep brown curls cascaded onto her shoulders, framing her elegant features; dark eyes, delicate nose, full lips stained a rich burgundy. _Don't fall for it, John. Brunettes are nothing but trouble._

"Bow before your queen!" a threatening voice behind him commanded as rough hands shoved him to his knees.

"Leave us." She addressed Teal'c and the guards, but her eyes were burning into his. "I am Amounet, queen of Lord Apophis." Her eyes flashed, as if to punctuate.

John had seen the other alien do that before, but it still creeped him out.

"Hey, what's with the eyes, anyway?" Her silent glare continued. "Ok, the eyes are obviously a touchy subject…" After a lengthy silence he continued, "I appreciate the nice pajamas and all, but could I get my clothes back? These pants leave nothing to the imagination..."

"Silence! Stand and remove your clothing."

John quickly got to his feet, taking a step backwards as his eyes grew large. "Whoa whoa whoa! I'm sure you're a nice…uh…woman and all, but I'm not that kind of guy."

"You dare to question your queen?"

"I'm sorry, the last time I checked, the United States didn't have a queen."

Like lightning, a whip appeared in her hand and Amounet grinned menacingly. She walked a slow circle until she was standing behind him, savoring every bit of John's fear. He heard a crack of the whip and let out a gasp as a stinging pain sliced across his back, tearing through his skin and the delicate silk. He made no move to obey her orders and was rewarded with another painful blow to his back. But he did not give in.

Amounet spoke from behind him. "You are fortunate that I appreciate a challenge. Others would not be so…lenient. But in time, you will learn to obey me. They always do."

"We'll see about that."

John braced himself for another whipping, but instead he heard the clicking of heels and was soon face to face with Amounet again. She raised her hand in front of his face, revealing what looked like an elaborate piece of gold jewelry worn on her fingertips and across her palm. He watched in confusion as the orb in the center of her palm began glowing with an orange light, focused on his forehead.

At first he felt dizziness; then, pain began to radiate through his body, continuing to intensify. He struggled to move but was alarmed to find he couldn't move his limbs. _What the hell is she doing to me?_ At last, she released him from her hold. The pain faded to numbness, but he was still frozen where he stood, unable to move anything but his head. John panicked; he was at her mercy now, and he hated nothing more than being helpless.

"What did you do to me?" John demanded, trying to hide the fear in his voice.

"Don't worry, the effects are only temporary." Her voice was soft now, soothing. _The calm before the storm?_ John wondered.

Amounet stepped closer, brushing her hand up his chest. Without another word, she tore his shirt away and he winced as it brushed over the fresh wound on his back. John cringed as she reached for the drawstring of his pants, and with a quick tug they were in a crumpled pile around his feet. He stood in horrified silence, completely exposed in front of this alien queen who looked him over like a piece of meat on display. The fingers of her right hand traced up through his chest hair, then traced his collar bone with a single finger. Her finger trailed across his skin as she circled him, inspecting every bared inch. "Yes, you will be more than adequate."

"Adequate? Adequate for what?"

"To be my personal slave."

- - - - -


	3. Chapter 2

**Title:** In the Shadow of Ruin  
**Author:** Mer, Hah and Em  
**Genre:** Drama, Action/Adventure, AU  
**Warnings:** Violence and a few naughty words  
**Season/Spoilers:** none  
**Summary:** Earth is enslaved by the Goa'uld when their first attack is not thwarted, but years later a small band of mercenaries led by Weir discovers the secret of Atlantis, which could prove to be their salvation. AU. Shep-centered. Weir, McKay, Lorne, Teyla and other familar faces are involved.  
**Disclaimer:** We don't own any of the characters. If we did, Shep and Lorne would be our cabana boys and we wouldn't get much writing done.

AN: Thanks again for all the reviews – they keep the plot bunnies fed!

**In the Shadow of Ruin**  
By Mer, Hah and Em

- Chapter 2 -

"Oh, now _that's_ just lovely..."

Rodney watched, binoculars pressed to his face, as the target of their surveillance carefully peeled off his leather garments and stepped stark naked into the hot tub. Elizabeth and Lorne squinted at the distant scene as they laid flat on their stomachs along the crest of a hill overlooking Amounet's resort camp.

"So the _naked_ guy in the hot tubis our "master pilot"! Wow, he's really into full service, isn't he?"

With a scoff and a glare in his general direction, Elizabeth snatched the binoculars from Rodney's face, earning her an eye roll from him in return. Peering through them, she managed to catch a look at Sheppard just as his naughty bits were submerging. _Damn_, she thought to herself, _I just missed the show!_ She watched as he moved in behind the queen and began kneading her shoulders. _On the other hand_, she realized, _maybe the show is just beginning_. Her gaze remained fixed on his lean, muscular back and arms as they glistened with sweat and hot water in the amber sunlight. She licked her lips, remembering what those hands felt like on her skin that last time they had been together, the day when he had initiated her into the Mile High Club. It was a testament to those hands, arms, chest - and other parts of his body - that, of the men she'd been with before and since, her encounters with him were the most vivid in her mind.

From his position next to her, Lorne noticed how quiet Elizabeth had become. He strained to see what was happening without the assistance of the binoculars. The two seemingly bare forms appeared to be almost merged from this distance. Moving closer and turning his attention to Liz's face, he recognized the powerful lust barely contained there. The last time he saw that expression, he had ended up in a storage closet, handcuffed to a boiler, as Elizabeth rode him off into the sunset. He didn't like the idea of that look being focused on anyone else. _Whoever this hotshot pilot is, he'd better watch his back_. Lorne swiped the binoculars to get a better look at the competition. Instead his attention was swayed by the lines of the queen's bare arched back until the sound of his boss clearing her throat brought him back to the present. She took the binoculars back again as they quietly slid down from their viewpoint into the more secluded area beneath.

"So, how do we get anywhere near Mr. Flyboy No-pants over there, let alone get him to join our little band of merry men?"

"Just wait and see, Dr. McKay. Have a little faith," Elizabeth smirked mischievously. _I think this may just call for some leather._

- - - - -

No one blinked an eye as they strode down the corridors, fearless and determined. After all, what outsider would dare risk certain death to enter Queen Amounet's inner circle? Flanked by two Jaffa guards, the hooded woman wore long, flowing robes in black and walked with her chin high. _I belong here; do not question me_, her confident stride radiated. They had all the right security codes to gain access to Amounet's compound and enter one of the guest quarters within. That was the easy part.

One of the Jaffa removed his helmet.

"Air…_air! _Are you trying to _kill_ me? I can't breathe in that damn thing!--"

"Relax, Rodney." Elizabeth lowered her robe's hood and shot him a look. "Would you rather get caught?"

"Yeah," Lorne grinned after removing his helmet too, "I hear the snake queen's fond of stringing people up and whipping them for days and days…" He chuckled to himself as the scientist went pale as a ghost.

"That's enough, _boys_. Back to business. Rodney, I need you to go to the room across the hall and get into their computer to deliver our message. How long?"

"Oh, about twenty min--"

"You've got five. Get working."

"Well that's just ridiculous! What am I, some kind of miracle worker? I could explain to you the complexities involved in the job, but you wouldn't--"

"You can explain it to Amounet when we get _caught_ because you didn't finish your work fast enough," Elizabeth threatened.

Lorne smirked at McKay and gestured a whip cracking.

- - - - -

_21... 22... 23..._ Sweat dripped down John's chest as he rhythmically pulled his chin up to the bar, silencing all other thoughts in his mind. As a personal slave he was required to stay in peak physical condition, but beyond that, he enjoyed his workouts; it was the only preciously rare time he had to himself, free from his duties and the constant watchful eye of the queen. The sudden beeping of the communication device attached to his belt interrupted his reverie. _So much for that. Damn it!_ John sighed as he received his orders; another of Queen Amounet's honored guests to attend to. Grabbing his towel, he quickly stripped off his shorts and headed for the shower.

Five minutes and a change of clothes later, John was on his way to the guest quarters. He reached the room and hesitated for a moment outside the door, wondering what awaited him inside; the orders had been very vague, and that always worried him. Opening the door with the touch of a button, he stepped inside.

In the dim light of the room, his eyes were drawn to a single female figure, sitting perched on the end of a luxurious bed. The guest wore a hooded robe, concealing her completely.

"I was told you'd be able to show me a good time," the cloaked woman spoke, soft and seductive, as she rose gracefully from the bed.

John was taken aback. Amounet wasn't in the habit of sharing her men, and who was this mystery woman anyway? She didn't speak like any Goa'uld he'd encountered. Before he could answer, she was standing in front of him, discarding the cloak behind her.

"…_You!_" Shock. Anger. Maybe even …joy? They all hit him at once, and that was all he could manage to say.

Elizabeth. It had been ten years since he'd last seen her, but one glimpse brought the memories flooding back; some good, some…not so much. _But she looks…wow._ His eyes glided up her long legs, accentuated by tightly fitted leather pants, to a revealing black bustier that accentuated every curve of her figure. _She wore that on purpose._

"Nice to see you too, John."

Elizabeth eyed her target intently. John looked much like she remembered him; in fact, he seemed to have hardly aged a day. Wearing black leather pants and a skin-tight t-shirt that emphasised his slim, muscular form - he looked good_. Damn good. Has he been working out? Say what you want about that Goa'uld queen, she has good taste in men._ Letting her eyes drift upwards to his face, she remembered the feeling of his soft lips against hers, his intense hazel green gaze, and her hands running through his untameable dark hair. _God, I've missed him._

"Not that it isn't good to see you again, Elizabeth, but what in the _hell_ are you doing here? And _how_…?

"What does it look like? We're here to rescue you." She gestured to her right, and John looked over and saw her male accomplice, standing in the shadows.

He laughed. _Was she serious?_ "Rescue me? I don't recall asking to be saved. I have it pretty good here, you know. Compared to the alternatives…"

"Yeah, I saw how good you have it," Elizabeth retorted with a smirk.

John's anger grew and he glared back at her. Why did this woman get to him so much?_ Must be a brunette thing…_ "What the hell do you want from me?"

"Come with us, John. Help us fight these bastards--"

"Y'know, I think we tried that, Liz. How did that turn out again? Oh yeah, we _lost!_"

"We're on the edge of something big here, really big; we could finally make a difference. But we need your help."

"Look, I'm sorry. I know you're fighting for a noble cause and all, but I'm not ready to just throw this life away to join your little circus." He turned away, not wanting to face her accusing eyes. "Better this than being dead, at least."

Lorne was beginning to grow restless, as he tapped impatiently on the staff weapon he held. He stepped out of the shadows threateningly and glanced over at Elizabeth. "You want me to--"

"No," she held up her hand, signalling him back to his corner.

"What are you going to do, kidnap me?" John shot her a darkly amused glance.

"The thought had crossed my mind."

"You'd have a dozen Jaffa on you before you even made it out this door," he replied, hand on his comm device. John watched the other man tense and raise his weapon, keeping it trained on him until Elizabeth motioned him to stand down.

"And betray your own people, John? Have you been a slave so long that you've forgotten what it's like to be a human? You're content to keep playing a good little whore to that snake queen, until she tires of you--"

"If you're trying to convince me to join you, you're doing a lousy job of it."

Her expression softened. "I'm offering you freedom, John. And a chance to fly again."

John's mood lifted; flying – that _was_ freedom for him. In all these years he'd been enslaved here, that was what he had truly missed most, and he'd give just about anything to be in the skies again. "You have a ship?"

"We do. And a ticket off this godforsaken planet."

"Off the planet, huh? What happened to your little group of rebels saving the world?"

"All part of the plan; you'll see." She took a step closer to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. "John, please trust me. This is worth it."

He returned her intense gaze, trying to gauge her intentions; she was a tough one to read. "And I suppose you can't tell me what 'this' is?"

Elizabeth shook her head. "Not here - it's too risky. We can't let this information fall into their hands."

"You mean so I can't turn the information over to the Goa'uld before you smuggle me out of here? What happened to trusting?"

"You know that's not what I meant. The Goa'uld have eyes and ears everywhere; we can't be too careful. Which also means we might not have much time…"

Without a word, John turned and took a few steps away, pausing to reflect on the situation. Could he trust her? _Absolutely not_, he warned himself. But if there was anyone who could get him out of here, it was Elizabeth. _Out of here…to where? _There was no hope left on this world. Being a scavenger and a fugitive, always on the run; that was no way to live. Then, neither was this. Maybe her talk of getting off this planet and being able to fly again wasn't a lie; why else would she risk everything to get to him? She certainly had his curiosity, if not his trust. He could always go his own way later.

Elizabeth turned to her second in command and ordered him to check on McKay's progress. Perhaps some privacy would help her work.

Growing impatient with John's hesitation, she silently glided up behind him. She moved in close, so close that he could feel her warm breath against his neck, teasing his skin.

"Please, John. This world needs you." Her words were soft but intense. She paused before breathing into his ear, barely a whisper, "I need you."

John turned around slowly to face her, their faces nearly touching. He searched her eyes for any sign of deceit but found only a deep desire that evoked memories of the passion they had once shared. "Ok, you've got my attention." _And clearly I've got yours_. "What's the plan?"

She responded with a satisfied smile and tapped on her radio. "Rodney, are we good to go?"

"As good as humanly possible; or better, considering who you're talking to--"

"Ok, ok, I get it," Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "Suit up, boys, we're heading out."

McKay's voice came over the radio again. "You're not serious about--"

"Rodney! Not another word about the helmet, or we _will_ leave you for the snake queen."

The radio fell silent.

"Follow me, John. Time to save the world," Elizabeth spoke with a grin, then walked towards the door. She glanced back once more, looking him up and down. "Nice outfit, by the way."

As she strode away she swung her hips deliberately, letting her skin-tight outfit do its work.

"You too," John called out as he followed behind her, eyes focused precisely where she wanted them to be.

- - - - -


	4. Chapter 3

**Title:** In the Shadow of Ruin  
**Author:** Mer, Hah and Em  
**Genre:** Drama, Action/Adventure, AU  
**Warnings:** Violence and a few naughty words  
**Season/Spoilers:** none  
**Summary:** Earth is enslaved by the Goa'uld when their first attack is not thwarted, but years later a small band of mercenaries led by Weir discovers the secret of Atlantis, which could prove to be their salvation. AU. Shep-centered. Weir, McKay, Lorne, Teyla and other familar faces are involved.  
**Disclaimer:** We don't own any of the characters. If we did, Shep and Lorne would be our cabana boys and we wouldn't get much writing done.

AN: No, we're not dead! Many apologies for the long delay between chapters. Real life kicked our butts. We should follow Mr. Garibaldi's advice… "I try never to get involved in my own life, too much trouble."

VK - "Is this gonna be like the 'Shep gets nekkid in every chapter' fic?" - Damn, you've figured us out!

**In the Shadow of Ruin**

By Mer, Hah and Em

- Chapter 3 -

John tried to remain calm and casual as he escorted the intruders towards their destination, though he was pretty sure he was failing at it. Elizabeth wore her cloak once again, and her two men were in Jaffa disguises. She'd introduced the pair as Marcus Lorne and Dr. Rodney McKay; _doctor of bitching and moaning, apparently._ He had little tolerance for either, at the moment. In fact, the less he thought about what he was doing right now the better, or he might change his mind and turn back. Maybe he would even be rewarded for turning in these trespassers...

His thoughts snapped back to their planned escape as they approached the guards outside the door to the airfield.

"You, lotar!" one of the guards barked. "This area is restricted."

"I'm escorting this honored guest of the Queen to her ship," John answered, hoping they were buying what he was selling. The Jaffa weren't usually known for their quick wits. The guards scrutinized Elizabeth, perhaps trying to recall which ship she had arrived on, or whether they'd ever seen her before at all.

"Let me see your orders." The guard crossed his arms, impatient.

Not satisfied with the progression of the conversation, Elizabeth stepped forward. "How dare you question me," she spoke. Spoke with _a Goa'uld voice._

John fought hard to control his urge to stare at her in awe; any indication to the Jaffa that this wasn't completely normal could doom them all.

"Would you like me to tell Queen Amounet that her incompetent guards questioned and delayed an honored guest? Perhaps you would like a taste of her whip," she raised an eyebrow, daring them to protest. But instead, the Jaffa quickly apologized and allowed them passage.

As soon as they were through the doors and out of sight of the guards, John grabbed Elizabeth by the shoulder and spun her around.

"What the _hell_ was that?"

"What?" She looked amused and still spoke with the alien voice. _God, that was creepy._

"Oh, this?" She tapped at a button on a piece of gold jewelry that encircled her neck. "Better?" Her voice was human again. "What, you thought I was actually...?" Elizabeth laughed, mockingly, and looked at him like he was the most gullible man in the world. "Just a little toy that Rodney made for me. Thought it might come in handy. Now, I think it's about time we got out of here."

"Yeah, about that..." John surveyed the airfield, searching for their ship, but saw only a familiar cargo ship and a large Al'kesh alongside, looming over it. There was no sign of the escape ship she had referred to. "I thought you said you had a ship?" His patience with this whole mysterious plan was wearing thin.

"Right there," Elizabeth nodded her head in the direction of the cargo ship. "It's as good as ours."

"What, the Tel'tak? You want to _steal _a ship?" He was incredulous. "Of course you do..."

"Ships aren't exactly easy to come by, you know. We drove here in a salvaged jeep, but that won't get us where we're going." Elizabeth raised her voice and spoke to the whole group, back in leader mode. "Alright, here's the plan: me, John, and McKay will enter the cargo ship and gain control of it by force. Lorne, you know your part. Let's move."

"That's not much of a plan." John looked at her, doubting. He watched suspiciously as Lorne left the group. "Hey! Where's he going?"

"Need to know basis, John. And you," she punctuated her words with a finger on his chest, "don't need to know... yet." She looked him up and down, turned on her heel, and continued toward the Tel'tak.

"Yeah. Right," he muttered to himself as he trudged along behind her, trying not to think about the fact that she'd given him no weapon with which to defend himself. "Wouldn't want me to know what I'm risking my life for."

Unlike the neighboring Al'kesh, the cargo ship wasn't guarded from the outside, making it easy for the trio to approach unchallenged.

"Once we're through the airlock, we'll move to take the flight area," Elizabeth commanded, now speaking at a near whisper so as not to alert the Jaffa inside, then looked at McKay. "And don't fire until I give the word. We'll need the Jaffa's help."

"You realize that even if we do manage to take this ship, they'll just blow us out of the sky with the Al'kesh," John pointed out, trying to show as little fear and panic as possible.

"One thing at a time," she replied, brushing aside his concerns. "Let's move."

Elizabeth produced a zat gun from under her cloak before opening the ship's door and moving in, gun raised and posture forceful and confident. A single Jaffa stood in the flight area, most likely checking some data or schematics, and he turned to face them at the sound of their footsteps. John noticed with great relief that the Jaffa was completely unarmed, with no staff weapon in sight. Elizabeth clearly noticed as well, and she walked forward to hold her gun just inches from the Jaffa's confused face.

Then she spoke to him with a cocky, sadistic expression on her face. "In case you hadn't noticed, we're here to steal your ship. And if you want to live to see your queen again, you're going to fly us out of here." She smiled at him. "Now, what's your decision?"

After contemplating for a moment, the guard suddenly reached for the controls and shouted a warning in Goa'uld. His words were cut short as Elizabeth fired at him and the Jaffa pilot slumped over the controls.

"Oh, that's brilliant," John glared at Elizabeth and Rodney, more anger seeping into his voice. "Shoot him _after _he warns all his buddies. Do you even know the first thing about stealing a ship?"

"Why yes, John, I went to Pirate College. How about you?" She returned his angry glare.

McKay nervously stepped in between the two. "Look, I'm sure we'd all love to play a game of 'who's a better pirate,' but shouldn't we be--"

"Yeah," John interrupted as he pushed the unconscious Jaffa out of the way and eyed the ship's controls. "I could start by getting this ship off the ground before the whole Jaffa army gets here." He'd seen these and other Goa'uld ships operated before; he was pretty sure he could handle it himself.

"No," Elizabeth replied, with a look of fear that had him worried, "it's already too late." As soon as she'd said it, John heard them as well; dozens of heavy footsteps closing in on the ship.

"We're so screwed!" McKay shifted from his usual state of panic to a state of even more panic. "I knew it! I knew this was a bad plan! I _told _you this was a bad plan! But why would you want to listen to a genius? Of course you wouldn't! That would be too--"

"Rodney!" Elizabeth cut off his rambling.

McKay finally finished his ranting, just in time to alert the approaching Jaffa to their position.

The cockpit fell silent, and they heard the soldiers shouting orders in Goa'uld and the sound of staff weapons activating. John took cover beside Elizabeth as a staff blast flew past his head. She was busy firing at what looked like an entire army pouring into the ship.

John leaned in close to her ear. "Maybe if you'd given me a _gun_ we could hold them off--"

Without stopping to argue, Elizabeth grabbed him by the arm and pulled him towards the cargo bay door. "Come on! We'll get into the cargo area and seal the door behind us."

Knowing they stood no chance out there, he let her pull him to their only escape route. The group frantically took shelter on the other side of the wall as McKay worked the controls to close the door and Elizabeth took up a guard position in front. Staff blasts still flew past the open door and the Jaffa were just steps away from the nearly defenseless trio.

Elizabeth turned her head cautiously around the corner to see how many Jaffa had followed them, but just as she was beginning to plot the best means of killing them, their entrance was finally sealed. "Well, that should hold them off..." McKay thought out loud, as he finished his work on the door's control panel, "...for a few seconds, until they break the door down and we all die horribly." He looked pointedly at Elizabeth.

"Yeah, about that horrible death part..." John was regretting, not for the first time, getting involved in this crazy scheme. "I hope that's not part of your plan." Elizabeth didn't answer. He glanced around the room, then back at her. "Ok, what now?"

Elizabeth flashed a grin that one facing certain death does not usually make. "We all get onto that ring platform over there and get the hell out of here."

"Oh, great idea... too bad the ring controls are on the _other side of the door_ that we just sealed shut!"

She smiled again and moved in close to him, placing her hand on his shoulder. "Trust me."

John rolled his eyes as she walked casually to the rings; he'd heard that one before. But what did he have to lose? He was dead either way. With a sigh he followed Elizabeth and stood beside her in the middle of the platform.

Elizabeth looked over at him with approval and spoke into her radio, "Lorne, we're in position. Do it."

They stood in awkward silence for an agonizingly long time while precisely nothing happened. As staff blasts shook the cargo bay door, Elizabeth grew increasingly nervous. "Lorne, this is Elizabeth, do you read? _Now_ would be a very good time--"

"I told you this would never work! This is never going to work!" Rodney blurted as he started pacing back and forth within the small confines of the ring platform. "Using the rings was a _terrible_ plan! And now we're going to be stuck in here for the rest of our natural lives because as soon as the Jaffa open the only door out of here, they're going to _shoot_ us and our natural lives will be officially _over_ - oh, God-" As he spoke, the door crashed to the ground and half a dozen Jaffa stormed into the room, staff weapons raised and aiming.

Instinctively, John reached over and took Elizabeth's hand in his; even though she was the one who'd gotten him into this whole mess, he felt the need to hold her now, at the end. She looked back into his eyes and opened her mouth as if to speak, but no words had a chance to pass through her lips. John saw the flare of a staff weapon firing and a flash of bright light enveloped his vision.

- - - - -

When his vision returned, he found himself standing on another ring platform, with no Jaffa in sight. _What the...?_ John's eyes darted around the room, trying to determine where they had ringed to; it appeared to be another Goa'uld ship. He looked back at to Elizabeth, who had that satisfied look on her face she got when things went her way. McKay looked like he was about to lose his lunch.

"Well," Elizabeth sighed, letting out the breath she had been holding. "We made it. Now let's get the hell out of here." She waved them to follow her through a door.

When they emerged onto the bridge of the ship, Lorne was standing at a console, a look of relief on his face. "Glad you could make it."

"You always did have excellent timing, Marcus," she replied, but her fierce glare told him what she really thought of this close call.

"I had a bit of trouble taking out the Jaffa guarding the ship. I hope this flyboy of yours can get this bird in the air," he nodded in John's direction.

Now that he'd had a minute to look around, John recognized the ship's configuration. "We're on the Al'kesh!" _I guess there's hope for her pirating career after all. _But she could have mentioned this particular detail, he thought in frustration. "I suppose this was your crazy plan all along?"

"Could we maybe have less questions about plans and more _getting the hell out of here?_" McKay interrupted, growing irritated again.

"It's a good thing you're here Rodney, or I might not have thought of that," Elizabeth mocked. "John, can you fly this thing?"

"Don't you think that's something you should've asked me _before_?" he questioned incredulously, studying the ship's controls.

"I knew if anyone could do it, it would be you."

"Well I've seen these ships operated before," John said as he slid into the pilot's chair. "Should be no problem at all." He put on a confident grin as he tried frantically to figure out what the hell he was doing before the Jaffa realized what they were up to. With a touch of the controls, the ship's engines fired and they were safely off the ground. He slowly moved the ship away from the base, quickly getting a feel for handling it.

An alert beeped from a console. "Liz, we've got company," Lorne announced. "They're following us in the cargo ship."

Elizabeth scoffed. "Fools. A cargo ship doesn't have any weapons. Take them down."

"Gladly."

John targeted the pursuing ship and fired several bursts, sending it into a shower of fire and debris. Though he wouldn't usually take satisfaction in destroying an unarmed ship, John felt exhilarated not only by this act of retribution, but by being in the sky again, flying one of the ships that he'd been taunted with for so long. While the others reveled in their victory and relief at having pulled off this crazy plan, John just smiled to himself, remembering the joy that flying brought him. At this moment it didn't matter what other plans this group had for him or where they were headed; for the first time in nine years, John felt freedom... and maybe even hope.

- - - - -


	5. Chapter 4

**Title:** In the Shadow of Ruin  
**Author:** Mer, Hah and Em  
**Genre:** Drama, Action/Adventure, AU  
**Warnings:** Violence and a few naughty words  
**Season/Spoilers:** none  
**Summary:** Earth is enslaved by the Goa'uld when their first attack is not thwarted, but years later a small band of mercenaries led by Weir discovers the secret of Atlantis, which could prove to be their salvation. AU. Shep-centered. Weir, McKay, Lorne, Teyla and other familar faces are involved.

**Disclaimer:** We don't own any of the characters. If we did, Shep and Lorne would be our cabana boys and we wouldn't get much writing done.

AN: Slowly but surely, another chapter finally gets written -ducks rotten tomatoes-

**In the Shadow of Ruin**  
By Mer, Hah and Em

- Chapter 4 -

"Ford! What have you got?" Elizabeth ordered to one of her men, as he helped close the doors of the hangar on the mercenaries' secluded base. John, Lorne, and McKay followed her down the steps of the stolen Al'kesh.

"He's here, Ma'am. And he says he's almost figured it out."

"Excellent! I'd like to meet with him right away." Elizabeth turned to John, "This is Aiden Ford, our weapons expert."

"John Sheppard. Call me Shep." He smiled politely as the young man cheerfully shook his hand.

"Good to have you on board, Shep."

"We all are," Elizabeth added. "Now, let's go pay our guest a visit."

"Yes, Ma'am. He's waiting for you in the lab." Ford turned to leave the hangar while Elizabeth waved the rest of the team to follow.

Lorne joined step with Elizabeth and leaned in close and spoke in a whisper. "I don't like this at all." He glanced back at John, making sure their conversation was private. "I mean, getting a pilot from the enemy, hiring a scientist we know absolutely nothing about! We've managed to stay alive for so long because we operated in absolute secrecy and no one except our own recruits even knew the resistance existed. The more outsiders we bring in, the more chance we have of being betrayed."

"I understand your concerns, Marcus. Believe me, I do. But can you fly an Al'kesh? And how's your Ancient?" She paused as he gave her a defeated look. "It's a risk we have to take. We're nearly there." She flashed a quick smile and placed a reassuring hand on his back before turning her attention to John, who was walking behind them in silence.

"Most of the base is underground," she told John as they descended a flight of stairs, noting the curiosity on his face. "We discovered this abandoned military site entirely on accident. Fortunately the Goa'uld had overlooked it when they destroyed most of our bases in the war."

"How nice of them."

The group continued walking down more stairs and through a series of dimly-lit corridors as Elizabeth recalled how they'd set up their operations at this base. The long trip to the lab gave John some idea of the vastness of the facility. _Leave it to Elizabeth to set up something like this._

The lab was a clutter of books, scientific instruments, and computers they'd scavenged, and in the middle sat a man immersed in his work. As the group crowded into the room, the man peered up over his glasses with inquisitive blue eyes. As soon as Elizabeth followed Ford through the room's door, he stood up to greet them. John wondered for a moment if the man would've even gone to the trouble if she hadn't been with them. Nevertheless, before anyone could begin introductions, he walked over to them and spoke to her confidently. "You must be Elizabeth Weir."

To John's surprise, she hesitated, just briefly, and he wondered if it was at the fact that this newcomer had known who she was. Not giving anyone else a chance to notice, however, she quickly responded in turn, a confident and satisfied expression splayed across her face. "And you must be Daniel Jackson, solver of the stargate mystery, former member of SG1, and the man who's going to solve all our problems."

Despite her smug sarcasm, neither nodded in confirmation, nor did they break eye contact as they took a moment to gauge each other for the first time.

"Well you didn't exactly give me much choice," he finally responded, breaking up what had become an incredibly awkward silence to everyone else in the room. "The armed escort was a nice touch, by the way, albeit completely unnecessary. You have something I need, remember."

Without shifting her gaze from his direction, she moved to stand beside him, speaking with an air of superiority. "Ah, well, I couldn't exactly risk you coming here to take it from me before you'd fulfilled your end of the bargain, now could I?" Apparently satisfied by his lack of response, Elizabeth stepped back toward her group and pointed casually toward the door, eyes still fixed on Daniel. "Leave us. I'd like to speak to our new guest alone."

Lorne nodded and walked out the door, directing John, Ford, and Mckay to join him. Once they were all out in the corridor, she slammed the sturdy metal door, shutting out any hope of eavesdropping.

The foursome hovered outside the closed door for several long minutes before McKay decided to break the awkward silence which John had been quite enjoying. "So, does anyone like the game 'prime/not prime'?"

Lorne rolled his eyes. "Here we go again. I'll be over here doing something more interesting, like staring at the wall."

McKay turned to John, looking both amused and incredibly smug. "He's just jealous that he lacks the mental capacity to challenge my undefeated record."

John smiled and nodded, trying to avoid eye contact.

"Well, it couldn't hurt to win once more," McKay said cheerfully. "89?"

"Not prime," Ford piped up.

"Wrong, as usual. You never cease to amaze me."

"16,201," Ford offered.

"Prime," McKay replied with a grin.

John raised an eyebrow and stepped into the conversation. "Actually, it's not."

"Oh, really? I didn't think flyboys could even count that high."

"Nine hundred fifty-three times seventeen," he responded indifferently.

"Well," John almost felt bad for him as the scientist's face fell and Ford stifled a laugh. "That game sucks anyway. How about-"

Mercifully, his suggestion was interrupted as the lab door reopened. Though John knew his own intelligence, he had no desire to engage in an IQ measuring contest with this arrogant man. As Elizabeth emerged from the lab, he tried to gauge her mood; though she concealed it well, she seemed uneasy about something and it made him nervous.

She walked past them without a word and made it around the next corner before John heard her footsteps start to get louder again and she stormed back toward them, visibly frustrated.

"Well, don't just stand there! McKay, see if there's anything you can do to help Dr. Jackson with his work. Ford, show John to his quarters," she ordered firmly. "And Marcus...you're with me."

"Yes, Ma'am!" Lorne replied, a bit too enthusiastically, and the pair walked off without another word.

As John walked with Ford down the hallway, the kid slapped him on the back amicably and broke into the grin he'd been trying to hide. "Did you see the look on his face? I haven't seen McKay look like that since we found his secret food stash. You some kind of genius too?"

"Just trying to shut him up," John shrugged.

"In that case, keep up the good work. Come on, room's this way."

They walked in silence for a moment, then John figured now was as good a time as any to start his inquiry about the operation. "So, Ford, how did you get involved in all of this? I mean, you don't look old enough to have been military at the time of the invasion, so where did you get your weapons training?"

Ford stiffened a bit at the reference to his age, but tried to appear nonchalant. "Actually, I was in basic training when the Goa'uld showed up. A small team and I were doing elite weapons training exercises and we managed to escape getting captured. After that, well, let's just say no one was left to take our weapons back." He ended this with a broad and distinctly triumphant smile. "Didn't take us long to find a few more small groups like us and decide to take the fight to the enemy. We caught the attention of the resistance and the next thing I knew, we were meeting Weir and her team. Guess I'm a quick study," he beamed.

John smiled in response, but they both continued down the hall in silence as he thought over not only what Ford had told him, but how to proceed. He knew he had to tread lightly while talking to these people, but Ford _did_ seem to be the most open and sociable resistance member he'd encountered so far. He started to wonder if he might find an ally after all. And maybe he would even be able to gather information on this group he'd been thrust into, not to mention Elizabeth, who was in many ways a completely different person from the woman he'd known ten years ago.

- - - - -

"I don't trust him." Lorne told her, unhooking the weapons from his gun belt and setting them all down on the makeshift dresser.

Elizabeth pulled him to the bed and guided him onto her lap. She peeled off his vest on the way down, her recent frustration now replaced by annoyance at his poor conversational timing. "Marcus, in case you hadn't noticed, he happens to be the world's foremost expert on Ancient--"

"I mean Sheppard."

She pushed him back a few inches, just out of reach, as he leaned in to kiss her. "_What?_" She did nothing to hide her contempt at his implication.

Despite her momentary frustration, Elizabeth did nothing to fight back his efforts to unbutton her shirt, and she leaned back in, trailing kisses along his strong jaw line from lips to neck, forcing him to respond to her question between gasps of pleasure.

"How do we know he's not working for the Goa'uld?" He slipped the opened shirt off her shoulders as he spoke and instinctively shifted his head and torso, allowing her to return the favor so she could move in on his bare chest. "Just look at where we found him."

His thoughts were distracted as her hands slid down his back and skillfully removed his belt and thigh holster, allowing them to drop and noisily hit the ground. He found it increasingly difficult to get his mind back on track again as she teased him with tingling fingers, running them up his thigh and chest. "We never should have gone for him in the first place. We saw how close he was to Amounet herself." Elizabeth froze and looked up at him, a slight flash of anger and jealousy in her eyes, which only fueled his own. "We have no way of knowing whether he's a Goa'uld spy! He could be revealing our location, telling them who's here, and sabotaging our base from the inside! What better way for them to finally destroy us?"

Annoyed to her limit and not wishing to listen to complaints or argue further, she slunk her way up just close enough to place a kiss on his lips. "I think you're just being paranoid..."

Before he could respond, she eased down into the sheets, assuring he forgot all about his jealousy as he followed her down.

- - - - -


End file.
